The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1887-10-09
CHAPTER II.
Do not insult calamity;

CHAPTER II.
Do not insult calamity;
IL is barbarouS groSSneSS 10 lay on
The weight of scorn, where heavy misery
Too much already weighs mems fortunes down.
-Ddntei
Although mere boy--not yet is years of
age-Virgil Paine possessed as much fore
thought and wisdom as most men, though
he was as free from presumption and self
Importance as it was possible for one to be-
His mother and little brother naturally
looked to him as their protector now that
his father was dead. Indeed, the burden of
responsibility of the household rested upon
his shoulders.
The sale was over; Fern Springs had
passed into the hands of strangers; nearly
two hundred dollars had been realized from
the sale of dispensable furniture, and, with
this amount, Virgil hoped to maintain the
family until he could obtain employment of
some kind. But where should he go to
seek employment There was no profitable
work to get in the country. He would go
to Richmond. He had read Of hundreds of
country boys who had gone to cities to
secure livelihood, and had years after
ward, by industry and honesty, become rich
and honored citizens. Why could he not
be as successful. Was he not young and
strong! Had he not a fair education!
Surely he ought to succeed. At any rate,
he would try.
His mother heartily acquesced in his
plans, and, in accordance with her wish, he
went to Richmond and rented a house, pre-
paratory to their removal thither
81 have secured snug little house,
mother" he said. as he and Mrs Paine sat
alone on the afternoon of his return from
the capital city. ''Of course it is not as
large as this house. but it will suit us very
well in our reduced circumstances. 1t has
ttxFn fort l,l elan
apartments, parlor, sitting room, dining
room, kitchen, and coy little apartment
for uncle Jerry and nanny. OF course we
could not part with the faithful old crea-
lures. 1t would not seem like home with
out them. Besides, mother, you are not ac-
customed to the drudgery of housekeep-
ing"
II am glad you thought of uncle Jerry
and nanny, my son, for | could not bear
to part with them. They were born on the
place and have passed all their lives in the
service of the Paines, and it is our duty to
divide our last crumb with them"
"Oh, mamma! mammal exclaimed Mil
ton, bounding into the room, followed by his
Newfoundland pet Melancthon. ''Dr.
Douglas is in the hall, and there is a lady
with hin-a great tall lady, and she ertain-
ly is pretty"
The boy had scarcely finished speaking,
when aunt Rachel ushered the visitors-a
gentleman and lady-into the room. The
former was the pastor of the church of
which Mrs Paine and Virgil were men,
bers. He was the Rev. Pike Douglas d.
d. His companion was handsome young
woman, elegantly attired in the height of
fashion.
MRS. Paine, this is my neice, Mrs. Bar
ton Gresham, of Baltimore, said the minis
ter, with an air of condescension.
Mrs. Paine deeply hurt by his manner,
arose and held out her hand to the lady as
she acknowled the introduction.
"This is my older son, Virgil, Mrs.
Gresham, and this, my younger one, Mil
ton" said Mrs. Paine, performing the duty
her pastor had failed to perform.
The two boys bowed.
what a beautiful childT cried Mrs.
Gresham, as her eyes fell upon Milton, who
was standing beside Virgil, with one arm
around the youths neck. . Uncle Pike, is he
the child you wrote to me about! Oh, is
not he lovely? He is subject for any
painter! What would Raphael not give,
were he living, to transfer that pure. an
gelic expression to canvas. What beauti-
full golden hair! And, oh, those eyes!
Aren't they just heavenly Come to me,
my darling! Would you not like to be my
little boy!"
mo, maam," replied Milton, tossing his
head defiantly. "Do you reckon l would
leave my mamma or my brother to live
with you. She is mighty mistaken, amt she
brother!'
The lady laughed, and putting her hand
under his chin, said:
But suppose | We're to give you every
thing you wanted-an abundance of pretty
playthings, pets books, nice little pony to
ride, and everything nice TO eat and to wear.
Couldn't all these things induce you to be
my little boy"
IF you were to give me everything in
the world, you couldn't get me to leave my
mamma or my brother, cause l would cry
myself to death"
Mrs. Paine, you have doubtless OWNED
the purpose of our visit, said the minister
MY neice has been married several wears,
and having been blessed with no children.
she and her husband are extremely anxious
to adopt pretty, interesting boy. The day
after your husbands death | wrote them a
letter. saying thought Milton would please
them, and that perhaps you might be in
duced under the circumstances TO yield your
child to their guidance and care, knowing
as you do it will be greatly to his advantage
1t viii perhaps pain you at first TO part with
your child, but trust you viii not sacrifice
his welfare upon the altar of selfish love-
My niece and her husband, being very
wealthy, will rear the child in luxury, give
him every educational advantage, and make
him the sole heir of their fortune, which
amounts to fully half million. You viii
give the boy to them of course! You
could not be so blind to his interests as TO re-
fuse.n
Such heartless language from one whom
she had regarded with affection so astound-
ed Mrs. Paine that she was unable to frame
reply. Attributing her silence to indie
cision, the minister continued:
Surely, madam, you will not allow any
foolish sentiments to interfere with his in
terests. Look at the life of toll and hard
ship that lies before you! VIII your con
science permit you to rear 50 bright and
beautiful boy as Milton IN poverty, with
the remembrance of his fathers disgrace
full life ever haunting him. when there is Of
fered him life of luxury in distant city,
where, amongst new associates and new
surroundings, he will grow up oblivious OF
the pastp
''Dr. Douglas" cried Virgil his great |
brown eyes ablaze with indignation, chow
dare you speak to my mother in so harsh
and unfeeling manner! How dare you
speak so irreverently of mothers love, and |
that in the face of the fact that you have
from your pulpit compared that love in |
touching and beautiful language to the Re |
deemer's love- Your heartless words have |
revealed to us your true character. AS long |
as we were abe to contribute largely to |
your salary and the maintenance of the !
church there was no one more obseQuious to- |
ward us than you. But now that adversely |